


Someone he couldn't bear to lose.

by RedSnow1



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Broken Promises, Character Death, Clara Oswin Oswald's Death, Doctor Who Feels, Episode Rewrite: s09e10 Face the Raven, Episode: s09e10 Face the Raven, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Losing Someone, Missing Scene, POV The Doctor (Doctor Who), Sad, Saving the World, The Doctor & Clara Oswin Oswald Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23608936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnow1/pseuds/RedSnow1
Summary: Set during Face the Raven."One day, she might meet someone she can’t bear to lose. That happens, I believe."She went down on the pavement like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She fell down quietly, much like a leaf fluttering towards the ground. Ever so gracefully, he thought, as she had always done everything.It was sad; it was beautiful.
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor/Clara Oswin Oswald
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Someone he couldn't bear to lose.

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning, Whovians.
> 
> Here is my first Doctor Who story, which I hope you will enjoy. I only recently fell in love with this show, and decided to pay my respects to this scene that shattered me completely! Twelve and Clara are my absolute favourite! I know it's sad, but I hope you will like it nevertheless.
> 
> Thank you to my beta @moonstruckfool, who despite not having watched the show, was very sweet and corrected my mistakes. English is not my first language, by the way! 
> 
> Enjoy your reading, and don't forget to let me know what you thought!

  
She went down on the pavement like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She fell down quietly, much like a leaf fluttering towards the ground. _Ever so gracefully_ , he thought, as _she had always done everything_. It was sad; it was beautiful. He stared at her in bewilderment and shock, unable to fully process what was going on in front of his eyes that threatened to overflow with tears. 

Everything had happened so fast. One minute, he was at the top of the world, happier than he had ever been, and the next, he had lost everything.

He had lost _her_.

How could he have let it happen?

Her head touched the paved surface. 

He took a step closer in the hope to reach her in time — but it was a lost cause. She was gone already, her lifeless body was lying in the middle of the street. 

The Doctor took a moment, frozen, to observe her. His Impossible Girl. He didn’t know what to do. What to think.

It was too late. Nothing he could do would change her fate. Clara Oswald was, once more, taken from him, and yet this lost battle hurt more than it ever did.

He couldn’t exactly point out what he was feeling, for it was all too much. Too many emotions battling their ways into his broken heart. 

_You’re gonna be furious, and you’re gonna be sad._

Oh, he was. And so much more. He was angry at the world for taking the one thing he cherished. He was angry at himself for letting it happen. They always found a way to fix it…

He should have been there.

He wished he could have held her hand. Not for her — for him. For once, in his life, he wished he could have been selfish. He knew her fingers entwined with his would have made him feel safe. He wished he could have told her. He wished he could have said goodbye. There were so many things he had yet to teach her, so many words left unsaid.

He wished he could have stood by her side until the very end. That was something they had promised to do. No more lying. No more hiding. Facing threats together, as they always did. Just the Doctor and Clara Oswald.

But he had been a coward, standing behind her, witnessing the life leaving her body and yet not daring to meet her eyes. Not daring to watch the light going out of those exquisite brown eyes. It was too painful. 

He had seen the way her body had bent from the pain. The way she had held on, brave little soldier facing her death. He had observed the way the raven had hit her right in the chest. She hadn’t run; she hadn’t backed away. Had seen the smoke escaping from her lips — had heard her take one last breath. 

He had seen it all from behind, frozen. Because the truth was too hard to face. Because he couldn’t see it again.

And she was gone. It hadn’t changed anything. She was still gone.

The Doctor walked closer, careful. He eyed the door behind him — no one had dared come after him, after them. Good, he thought. He knew he was expected back inside the house, at some point. They could wait. The world could wait. They expected the Doctor; it wasn’t who he was anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Right now, he was a man who had lost everything all over again. And it hurt.

It hurt because Clara Oswald was gone and everything was quiet. All he could hear was the beating of his two hearts, torn and broken to pieces. Her scream had settled every quarrel - her death had not been in vain. Hadn’t it? If she hadn’t tried to cheat it, if he had been more careful… None of this would have happened. He had a duty of care. Love is a promise, and he had broken it.

The Doctor was by her side now; his feet had carried him to her. To his most faithful companion. To his impossible girl, dead at his feet.

He had seen her die before. Twice. Not through these eyes, of course, and yet, the memory was imprinted in his mind. Except, this time, it was different.

Not only had he let her down, but he had lost the most important person in his entire life.

The Doctor fell down on his knees, right next to her body. His elderly body wouldn’t like that — but he didn’t care. He fell to his knees because the world was too heavy on his shoulders. Because she was no longer here to carry it with him. 

The Doctor reached out for Clara. He took her hand, half hoping that he would feel her fingers grasp his. There was no pulse. Nothing. She was cold and limp. She was gone, truly, and it was his fault. He scooped her, carried her in his arms, afraid to let go. She was light — so light. He rocked her in his arms like a child — for himself mostly. To reassure himself that everything would be alright, and yet knowing it wouldn’t. His hands were shaking, and for a minute, he found himself contemplating her. He had missed seeing her so close. All traces of pain were gone from her. Her face was emotionless. It almost seemed as if she were asleep.

But the Doctor knew better. He had spent months travelling across the universe with her. He knew that her face would scrunch up whenever she fell asleep, he knew that her heartbeat would drop until 56 bpm. He knew that she would take a breath every eight-seconds exactly, and sometimes mumble things he couldn’t exactly make out. 

He observed that familiar face — this nose he had once thought to be funny, the way her hair fell upon her face. Her eyes were closed and he remembered what it felt like to dive into these dark pools. Clara was an excellent liar — but her eyes always betrayed her. Her eyes were a mirror to her soul and they often shone as bright as the sun. All these months pretending he didn’t see just how stunning she was, for fear of losing her. He hadn’t lied to her, though. To him, she would always look the same. She would always look like the most magnificent thing he had ever laid his eyes on, and yet, he had travelled through many galaxies.

He cupped her cheek, in a desperate attempt to see her smile. Almost daring her to wake up, and do just that. Clara Oswald had always liked to push his buttons, and this time, he was begging her to.

_Smile for me. Go on, Clara Oswald… One last time._

But she didn’t. She was gone — Oh god, _she was gone_.

And the Doctor found himself holding on tighter. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want it to be true. Had Clara been there, she would have been incredibly amused to see him embrace her, he thought, as he hurried his head in the crook of her neck. Clara Oswald had always been the one initiating their hugs. Except for that one time they had fought alongside the Vikings, where he had been so scared of losing her. It was a quirk he had grown to adore in her. She couldn’t help it: she was cuddly. Clara Oswald’s hugs never lied, while her face sometimes did. Clara’s hugs reflected how much she cared — how much she had loved him. Because she had. Only a fool wouldn’t have noticed. And he should have told her he felt the same.

This time, the Doctor found himself bringing her closer. He who hated physical contact. His hand was resting on her back, pushing her against his chest while the other was maintaining her head against his heart. What wouldn’t he give for her to close her arms around his waist? He closed his eyes, shaking with all his might. A hug was just a way to hide a face. That was what he was doing. Hiding away his sorrow, his anguish, his fury. Hiding it away from her so he wouldn’t deceive her.

_I know it’s going to hurt you, but please. Be a little proud of me._

And proud he was. She had handled the situation way better than he had. Perhaps it was because he was done losing the people he loved. Perhaps because he was the one that had to live in the world she had left behind. A world imprinted by her kindness. A world without her laugh.

Tears were threatening to escape his weary eyes. The Doctor tried to hold them back, to be strong for her, but there was no use. How could he? How could he be when she was the one to keep him grounded? They trailed down his lined cheeks silently. His chest was heaving: he was devastated.

He didn’t sob, nor did he scream. He remained silent, his fingers entwined with hers. He couldn’t let her go. He didn’t want to. They were Clara Oswald and the Doctor — they belonged together.

Her head lolled against his chest, her lips parted, and he found himself inhaling the smell of her hair, holding on to her as if his own life depended on it — whereas hers had ended. So soon. So young.

She could have changed the world. After all, she had changed him.

He smiled bitterly.

“Oh, Clara… My Clara…” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.

She would have smiled, had she been here. Her entire face would have beamed with light. That was who she was — her spirit as warm as the sun. Oh, she was glorious and beautiful.

It wasn’t fair.

Why did he have to lose? Why couldn’t he win, just this once?

Why did it have to be Clara?

His face was distorted by the tears, the rage, the waves of emotions crashing within him, the Doctor raised his head and stared at the none, searching for someone to blame.

The universe.

Mayor Me.

Himself.

But not her. Never her.

It wasn’t her fault. Her heart was too big, her empathy too strong.

She was so very much like him, and perhaps, it was the reason she had been taken away.

But he had to try. He had to bargain. He would do anything. Anything to save her.

_Please, I beg of you. Save Clara._

The night was quiet above their heads, sensing, perhaps, the shift in the atmosphere. He wanted to scream into the darkness, his blood was boiling in his veins. He wanted to tear apart the fabric of reality and bend time to his will. He wanted to get back into his TARDIS, start over, save her — no matter the price.

_One day, she might meet someone she can’t bear to lose. That happens, I believe._

Clara Oswald, his impossible girl. She was the person he couldn’t bear to lose. He couldn’t leave her there. He couldn’t accept the truth. He couldn’t leave her here to rot — she deserved better.

She deserved to rest in peace. She deserved to be by his side.

No, she deserved better than him. He had failed to save her.

“Clara, Clara… I am so sorry.” He wept, his face hidden in her neck. “I promise you, Clara Oswald. I will find a way. No matter how long it takes.”

As his blue eyes filled themselves with tears once more, the Doctor noticed something quite odd. They were no stars in the inky sky. He had hoped there would be stars at least, to guide her way. He had hoped that the last thing she would have seen of the world was how beautiful everything had always been. 

They had died with her.

_Part of him had died too._

He was sick of losing.

Reluctantly, he put her down, not without stroking her cheek one last time. He closed her eyes and held her hand. One last time, he thought. 

The Doctor left, hatred in his eyes. He left the alleyway, without looking back. He knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to leave. His body was shaking, his eyes red from having cried too much.

He had failed his promise to keep her safe. Now, he had to fulfil the one he had just made. He would find a way to bring her back. He was the Doctor, after all. Healing people, that’s what he did. Saving his friends, rescuing the world. Anything. For her.

He loved Clara too much to listen to her. He would get his revenge over fate. He would bring her back. He would cure her. 

Only then, would he finally be the Doctor again. _Her Doctor_.

Back into the mansion, he let Mayor Me do her deed. Wherever he went, whatever they did to him, it didn’t matter. He would hold on for her.

The Doctor stood still, waiting to be teleported out.

And when he closed his eyes, he could still hear her scream.


End file.
